


love is plenty

by banshee_in_the_dark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Platonic 69 (Sex Position), Platonic Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn and Happiness, Romance, that's what you'll find here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6867430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the scenarios Clarke could’ve come up with for Bellamy to accidentally see her naked, having her ass parked on his shower and recovering from a minor heart failure was most assuredly not one of them.</p><p>Canon-compliant through 3x15.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love is plenty

**Author's Note:**

> For [MJ](http://www.queenclarkegriffine.tumblr.com) , who agrees that Bellamy Blake deserves all the blow jobs and has A++++ oral skills.
> 
> Spoilers through 3x15. Also, this is set after the finale so I gloss over the events in Polis, some of them based on "leaked" spoilers, but for the most part just wild speculation on my part. Like it says in the tags, this is pure smut.
> 
> Beta'd by [ Sarah ](http://www.writingaloveaffair.tumblr.com) who consistently saves me from posting fics grossly ridden with errors. She's the true MVP here.

Clarke stops before Bellamy’s quarters, taking a moment to gather her courage. The halls of Arkadia are eerily quiet, the few survivors having long settled into their respective quarters to rest and privately come to terms with what happened. She should be doing the same, but she’s had enough solitude to last her a lifetime. She knocks on his door, rapping her knuckles briskly on the metallic surface, and waits. 

Nothing.

Frowning, Clarke takes a step back, checks that she has the correct room, and knocks again, more firmly this time.

Silence. 

Her heart start beating wildly inside her chest. It’s an irrational fear, Clarke knows, but what if something happened to him? They are supposed to be safe here. Alie is  gone, the grounders aren’t currently a threat, the Arkadian survivors who willingly took the key are too guilt ridden to try anything. But what if she missed something, like it happened with Emerson?

What if Bellamy left? Clarke chokes on a sob and buries her face in her hands. Octavia left with Indra and she was adamant that Bellamy was not welcome to accompanying them, but what if he followed them anyway? Would he do that, leave without saying goodbye to her? Her heart says no, he wouldn’t do that to  _ her _ , but her brain makes the compelling argument that his sister is the most important thing in his life and as such, trumps everything. Clarke always listens to her brain, which is a problem since that’s the reason it took the threat of torture lingering over Bellamy for her to realize something that was apparent to her mother and Alie.

Her heart says he wouldn’t leave her, so she’s trusting that.

Clarke slides the door open and slips in, closing it behind her. “Bellamy?” she looks around the neat and annoyingly empty room. “Fuck,” she curses under her breath, 

“What are you doing here?”

She jumps in her spot, startled. Bellamy stands under the threshold of a sliding door Clarke hadn’t noticed before, half-naked and very clearly just fresh off a shower.

He has a towel knotted around his lean hips and her response to the tanned expanse of skin over taut muscle displayed is very troubling. It’s the adrenaline, she tell herself. Just a second before she was sure something terrible had happened to him. So seeing him very much alive is bound to produce a response from her. “I was looking for you, I thought something bad had happened when you didn’t answer your door.” 

She does an admirable job of sounding perfectly normal when her brain is currently very distracted by the expanse of taut glistening muscle in display. Was he always this, huh, athletic? Despite the many rumors about his attributes that ran around camp back the dropship, Clarke never had the pleasure of appreciating -  _ seeing!  _ \- seeing Bellamy without a shirt on. His hugs are always quite solid, and he did a fair lot of carrying her unconscious body at Polis while she was in the City of Light, so of course she knew he was strong but this is just -

This is a lot.

“... something?”

“What?” Clarke blinks, dumbly. Was he talking? What did she miss?

Bellamy gives her a weird look and shakes his head. “I asked if you needed something.”

“Yeah, uh.” Clarke frowns, her mind completely blank. What the fuck is wrong with her. God. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Her original, carefully practiced line was suppose to be  _ how about that drink _ , it was meant to be dramatic and flirty and she would take him by surprise with it the moment he opened his door, but that didn’t happen and Clarke does not fare well improvising.

Bellamy’s eyes soften and he ducks his head. The tips of his ears are tinged with a blush. “Just taking a shower. It’s been a while.”

Clarke nods. Her mother asked her if she wanted to go first back at their quarters but Clarke said no and slipped away while her mother was busy showering, and came straight here.

“You know there’s still hot water if you want to take one.”

Clarke narrows her eyes at him. Is he implying that she smells? She knows she does okay, he doesn’t have to mention it. It’s not polite. 

She fingers a lock of her hair, feeling how crisp and frayed it’s become.The weird oil the handmaidens used to style her hair back in Polis is almost completely gone, thanks to the many rain showers they were caught under when they went to Luna’s. Now that she thinks about it, her scalp itches a bit and there’s probably sand from the beach there too. 

Bellamy snorts a laugh and starts towards the foot of his bed where a small pile of neatly folded clothes await him. “Take a shower Clarke. You’ll feel better.”

She goes without complaint, but with her nose in the air. Just because he’s right doesn’t mean she has to like it.

Clarke doesn’t remember showers in the Ark being so pleasant. Maybe she was just accustomed to them, or maybe she’s just gone too long without a proper bath, but this is glory. The first splash of hot water feels like ascending to a higher plane of existence. Clarke is not Clarke anymore. She is an ethereal being floating among warm soapy clouds surrounded by a blanket of stars. She cannot help moaning out loud. It feels that good.

She scrubs herself literally shedding layers of grime, sweat and skin. She uses Bellamy’s soap and hair products, which should not feel so incredibly intimate, but it does. The small cubicle was already filled with his scent, not the strong and hearty one she’s accustomed to, but clean and with the underlying, unmistakable tang of Bellamy in it that reminds her of rainy days in the woods. She will smell like him when she’s finished and the knowledge sends a tingle of electricity through her. Will he notice? Will he care? Will he, perhaps, get a whiff of her own clean scent and be assaulted by visions of her naked in his shower? Will he entertain those thoughts as she is entertaining the idea of his towel accidentally falling off and revealing what’s underneath? Clarke turns around and gathers her hair over her shoulder, letting the warm water cascade down her back. She bites her lip as her hand slowly travels down her belly to cup her sex. 

Perhaps Bellamy will dare act on such thoughts. If she comes out of the bathroom and just happens to drop her towel, he might -

“Ooff!”

Her feet fail her and she loses her balance. Clarke grabs hold of the sliding door a she slips but it only manages to slow her fall not stop it completely.

“CLARKE!”

Bellamy bursts into the small bathroom and tears open the sliding door, a wild look of fear clouding his eyes. Of all the scenarios Clarke could’ve come up with for Bellamy to accidentally see her naked, having her ass parked on his shower and recovering from a minor heart failure was most assuredly not one of them.

He pulls her from the shower, lifting her sopping wet into his arms bridal-style. Now, Clarke loves her body, but she has plenty of soft fleshy parts and she is not light. She spent a good ten minutes in the shower admiring Bellamy’s toned arms so it’ not like it’s a shock, but it is admirable that he can lift her this way and not show the slightest signs of strain. Very admirable. Very attractive. She’s reminded of Murphy’s off-hand comment of Bellamy being unnecessarily dramatic by carrying her over his shoulder while he wielded his shock baton with his other hand, shocking and kicking his way out of the throne room. Apparently there were volunteers to carry her so he could’ve just led the team and clear the way for her to be carried out, but he point-blank refused to trust anyone else with safety.

None of that is helping tamper her libido. Which is a problem. She is naked and wet in Bellamy’s arms.

(This is exactly what she was fantasizing about in the shower and the irony does  _ not  _ escape her.)

He carries her into the bedroom and very carefully deposits her on the bed, kneeling beside it so they’re at eye-level. “Are you okay?” Bellamy asks her, softly cupping her cheek in his warm palm. 

Clarke bites her lip, unable to look away from him. “My hip hurts a little,” she replies breathlessly.

He rolls her onto her side and his large hand inspects her left hip, gently tracing the spot where a fist-sized bruise is starting to form. 

To his credit, Bellamy’s eyes don’t stray inappropriately. Her breasts are literally right in front of his face, the bountiful mounds pressed together by her sideways position and her nipples beaded from a combination of the chilly air and her arousal. 

Similarly, his hand is quite close to the patch of soft blonde hair guarding her sex. His gaze is focused on her hip, so with just one quick glance he could take in the sight of the vee between her legs and her curls with water from the shower still clinging to them.

She wouldn’t blame him if he looked at her. It’s only natural. She would be fine if he took a moment to appreciate her naked glory. God knows she appreciated the hell out of him in that towel. He should definitely look. They’re not going to stop being friends if he looks. Clarke would even be okay with him staring for a couple of minutes. She gets it. She’s hot, he’s hot, it’s not like pretending they aren’t is a healthy thing. Really it would not be awkward at all. They’re friends. They’re cool.

Though, in the interest of equality, Bellamy should offer to let her see him completely nude. It would be only fair. Equality is a big deal.

Bellamy’s eyes snap back to her without detouring. Such a gentleman. Damn him. “You’re gonna get a nasty bruise but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

His hand is still on her hip though Clarke doesn’t think he realizes he’s softly soothing the hurt with his thumb. She inhales sharply, hypnotized by the gentle touching and the heat building in his eyes.

Bellamy swallows and licks his lips. He’s trying hard not to look, she can tell. Just like he usually makes an effort not to stare down her shirt when she leans forward in front of him without thinking about it. Everyone at one point or another stares at her cleavage. Her breasts have their own gravitational pull and she is fucking proud of that. Clarke has caught Raven, Octavia and Jasper, even Roan, looking, but never Bellamy. He is either a fucking gentleman with an iron force of will, or he just isn’t interested. In the past, she would’ve let the matter drop at that and classified her feelings for Bellamy as too messy to bother analyzing. But she’s not doing that anymore.

“I’ve always wondered if your lips are as soft as they look,” she whispers, holding his gaze.

He lets out a harsh breath and before Clarke knows it, his lips are on her proving that yes, they are just as soft a they looked and more. She bets his tongue feels even better.

Clarke threads her fingers in his hair and pulls him closer. Bellamy leans forward, placing one knee and a forearm on the mattress to  support him. His tongue gently teases the seam of her lips and Clarke parts them with a sigh, letting him in.

Bellamy makes a soft, aggravated sound and pulls away. “We need to stop.”

“Why?” Clarke demands, sitting up.

“I can think a few reasons.”

He stands back, rubbing his face harshly. Clarke takes a moment to rake her eyes over him. He’s wearing pants and nothing else with the exception of his thigh holster. Fond laughter bubbles inside her. It’s such a Bellamy thing to do, strap on his gun before even putting on a shirt.

The pants ride low on his hips showcasing the v of muscle of his rock hard belly. A light tuft of wiry hair trails south from his navel and disappears beneath the waistband of his cargo pants, where it grows thicker.

Parched, Clarke licks her lips and sits back on her kneels in front of him. She fingers the first of the two buckles strapping the holster to Bellamy’s thigh and releases it with a click. She holds his heated stare as her fingers trail teasingly to the other buckle and release it a well.

“We just came back from war,” Bellamy argues, breathing heavily and staring down at her like he wants to consume her. “You went into the City of Light, you nearly died.” 

The ferocious look that settles on his eyes sends Clarke’s heartbeat dancing and warmth to pool low in her belly. He was terrified for her. She can still remember that feeling of waking up in his arms with his lips pressed to her forehead and his hands softly combing her hair. Bellamy pulled her back and saved her. Clarke doesn’t think he knows that. The City of Light was collapsing around her and part of her was tired of fighting and wanted to stay. But somehow, his presence came through and she was reminded that Bellamy was real, that he was part of a world that despite it’s many faults and all the pain it visited on her, was also full of love. That world wanted her back, And so with what little strength she had left, she mentally clung to his presence until her mind was free and Clarke was back to herself.

“You need time to heal,” he says softly, gently dabbing at the puncture wounds on her chest. The warm water from the shower softened the scabs and thin droplets of blood gathered at the edges.  

“I don’t. I know what I need and it’s you,” Clarke reasons as she undoes his belt and carefully drops the holster to the floor. 

Bellamy shakes his head. “Rash decisions made after a brush with death are hardly ever wise ones.”

“Bellamy, why do you think I came here? I’m done wasting chances. I know what it’s like to realize you’re too late. I’ve been there, more than once.” She rises on her knees and twins her fingers behind his neck. His face comes forward and their foreheads touch. She breathes him in and it’s cleansing. This moment, his presence, the surety that Bellamy is here with her and would do anything for her; it anchors her. “I want you. I have wanted you for long time I think. I didn’t give Alie the passphrase when she hung my mother but if it’d been you on that noose I -”

“You wouldn’t have,” he affirms, sure. 

“I don’t know. With anyone else I would’ve held out but with you… I don’t know.”

Bellamy sighs, the warm puff of air teasing her cheeks. His arms snake around her waist and he holds her. The first contact of her naked chest to his renews the desire their serious conversation tempered. As far as love declarations go, this was hardly traditional, but Clarke thinks he gets the gist of it. 

“You need time to grieve,” he tries to dissuade her, but does nothing to stop her from pressing her lips against his neck and kissing her way down his torso.

“You lost someone too.” Clarke didn’t know Gina and it’s not like he needs a reminder about his dead girlfriend, but she’s not the only one who has lost people she cares about. “Does that mean you don’t want me?”

He groans and threads a hand through her damp hair. “You know I want you.”

“Good.”

Clarke sits back on her legs and kisses around his navel while her fingers deftly undo his pants. “Why were you getting dressed?” she asks him, genuinely curious. “I remember you said on the way back from Polis that all you wanted was a shower and a nap.” She pulls his pants down and he steps out of them. The bulge tenting his boxers is very impressive. Clarke palms him through the material, shivering as she feels him twitch and harden further.

“I was going to secure the perimeter before I - fuck,” he groans when she tucks her hand into his boxers. The heat of his smooth skin sears her. She stretches the elastic band and pulls the boxers down his legs. His beautiful cock bobs free, standing as a tall column against his abdomen. 

Clarke takes it in her hands, gently pulling the skin back and revealing the sensitive head. She wets her lips and presses a kiss there before licking around the retracted foreskin. “I think you deserve a day off,” she teases him and takes his cock into her mouth.

He is quite the mouthful and Clarke is out of practice, so deepthroating is sadly not possible at the moment. She works the rest of his length with one hand and holds onto his leg with the other, digging her nails on his thigh.

Bellamy combs her hair back from her face gathering at the back of her neck. She glances up as she releases his cock from her mouth, letting it bob against her wet lips. His pupils are completely blown as he hotly stares down at her. Maintaining eye contact, Clarke’s tongue daintily gathers the drop of precum beading on the tip of his cock, savoring its salty taste as she swallows it.

He breathes harshly. “Do you have any idea how hot you look like this?” One of his hands stays at the back of her neck gently fisting her hair while the other cups her breast. He thumbs the beaded nipple and Clarke arches her back, offering her heself to his touch. 

Exerting a little pressure, Bellamy brings her up on her knees by pulling on her hair. She receives his ravenous kiss, giving back as good a she gets. His hand travels down her left side and over the curve of her hip. When it gets to her knee it goes back up again, but searing a path up the inside of her thigh this time until he cups her moist sex. He groans against her mouth. “This is all for me?” he asks, tracing her slit.

Clarke nods, kissing him deeply. She widens her stance, planting her knees further apart on the bed and giving him access to her pussy. She holds him close to her, her breasts squishing against his solid chest. She grips his cock and traps it against her soft belly, rubbing him up and down firmly.

“I want you in my mouth,” she tells him, nibbling on the tiny scar splitting his upper lip.

If possible, his cock grows harder in her hand at her confession. “You’re killing me.”

Bellamy pulls away and settles on his back on the bed. Clarke crawls between his legs but he shakes his head with a smirk. He sits up and grips her hips, directing her with a firm hand how he wants her. When she ends up straddling his massive chest facing sideways she realizes what he’s going for and anticipation courses through her body, shaking her.

She goes right to work on his cock, taking as much of it into her mouth as she can while she rolls his heavy balls in her hand. Bellamy is not done placing her however. While her left leg is tucked against his side with his arm slanted over it to keep it in place, he directs the right one to kneel farther up by his shoulder. His right arm is hooked under that leg and his hand grips her ass. He lowers her until she’s practically sitting on his face but not quite. The position leaves her completely open to his mouth’s assault. Clarke can’t move her legs, she can’t pull away from him and if he wasn’t holding her up her leg muscles would give up soon. 

But he is holding her right where he wants her so she doesn’t have to worry about that. And once his face comes up and he takes a long, hard lick at her inner folds, Clarke doesn’t have to worry about  _ anything _ .

She releases his cock with a low moan as his tongue penetrates her, licking deeply into her. His cock bobs against her face and she holds it there as she licks his balls, drawing them into her mouth one at a time. 

With his hands busy holding her in position, Bellamy bumps his chin against her clit as he vibrates his tongue inside her. Abandoning his balls, Clarke mouths the sides of his thick cock, going up and down the long column until every inch of him is covered in her shiny saliva, everything except the tip. She takes the head into her mouth last, enthusiastically sucking on it as she rubs the rest of his length hard. Going by his loss of rhythm and his growl, he enjoys the friccion very much. 

In retaliation, he draws her engorged clit past his lips, trapping it in place with his teeth very carefully. He lashes at the sensitive nub with his tongue, licking up, down and sideways in a random pattern that has Clarke nearly black out with pleasure. She loses her rhythm and accidentally swallows more of his cock, triggering her gag reflex. Bellamy growls and tenses like a rock beneath her as the muscles at the back of her throat close around the tip of his cock.

The tension coiled low in her belly is begging for a release that is almost here. When he growls the vibrations stimulate her deeply. His left arm releases her leg and he sinks two fingers into her needy cunt as he continues to torture her clit. The firm penetration is exactly what she needed and Clarke comes hard and long, shaking over him. 

His heady taste fills her mouth. He came with her. She laps hungrily at his cum as Bellamy does the same between her legs.

“God,” Clarke moans, resting her cheek on his muscled thigh and closing her eyes in bliss as Bellamy gently cleans her between her legs and the inside of her thighs. He shies off her clit and she appreciates it. It’s quite sensitive after her orgasm. She’ll be down for another round soon, but she needs a breather first.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he says teasingly, squeezing her calf gently for good measure.

She nuzzles against his thigh and hums contentedly. “But you’re so comfortable.”

He laughs and it rumbles in his chest, so Clarke feels it deeply. She can’t remember the last time he heard Bellamy laugh. It must’ve been before Mount Weather, probably as far back as Unity Day. She remembers they flirted a little that day and she’d had enough to drink to give her a little courage but not cloud her judgement. She’d felt his interest and returned the feeling so maybe they would’ve gotten together then if Finn hadn’t crashed the party with the news that he’d arranged a meeting with the Grounders. They had a hard-won balance going on back then and she remembers how she hated the idea of complicating things between them, and she suspected he felt the same, but the temptation was there. 

They never took a step in that direction and still, he is the most important person in her life. She trusts him. He makes her strong and brave. She is just better with him.

Bellamy’s fingers thread through her hair and he massages her scalp. Clarke twists around to look at him and yeah - she wants to cuddle and this position is detrimental to that effect.

She lifts herself off him, groaning at the pull of her muscles. She catches the wild panic that flares in Bellamy’s before he shuts it down. “Hey,” he says, guardedly. “Regrets?”

Clarke very deliberately grabs hold of his hand and twines their fingers together, before bringing it up to her lips to press a kiss on his palm. “None.”

Bellamy grins so wide it makes her chest hurt. She is  _ happy _ , she realizes with a start. This is what happiness feels like.

He tries to pull her down with him but Clarke shakes her head and pulls him up instead. “Blankets,” she explains succinctly. 

He smiles and tilts his head to the side. “My bad.”

They get under the blankets together, laying face to face, her legs tucked between Bellamy’s and his arm around her. Clarke finds her favorite spot where his neck and shoulder meet and nuzzles her nose there.

Her home is right here.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Feedback is VERY much appreciated ;-)
> 
>  
> 
> [I'm on tumblr too](http://www.bellohmyblake.tumblr.com)


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